My English teacher would always remind me not to start every sentence with "I", which proved difficult when recounting for the 10th time "What I did last summer...". Even now I have to re-read my writing (with his grating voice in my ear) and often end up re-writing it. Naturally, if I'm recounting a memory and every other sentence begins with "I" this merely means that I am at the center of all the great action. I am the heroine and the center of the universe in my recount of whatever adventure (real or imagined as it were). So why such disdain for "I"?

In management classes we were taught "there is no "I" in team". Granted, this makes sense - even if quite a few of my past and current co-workers apparently never took a management class since I get to hear "I did this, I suggested this, I re-worked that..." on and on ad nauseum. But I digress again...

In the context of a personal blog this little pronoun will inevitably creep in countless times. Afterall I am talking about myself, my thoughts, my ponderings and endless philosophizing. Although I have learned over time to be courteous to strangers, put others before me, care for those not able to do so (at least where my children are concerned) and have general compassion for other's plights.. the fact is my ego, my Id, my superego will always take precedence over anything else.

For better or worse I am stuck with me. I can no more divorce myself than I could chop off my right arm and eat it. Ok, maybe a strange analogy but if you really think about it, it fits. Our thoughts as people always revolve around us, even if our mouths say otherwise. We think about the wrongs done to us (real or perceived), dreams and goals we want to accomplish, beat ourselves up for making mistakes, regret our actions (or not), draw conclusions from our own experiences and often project those unto others. It's all about ME, MYSELF and "I". Always.

One could argue that Mother Teresa never thought about herself in her quest to aid those unfortunate souls in Calcutta slums. I'm of the opinion that unless she had defective genes, she did indeed think about herself a great deal. At the very least I am willing to bet that she often grappled with her faith being exposed to such suffering all the time. So again, there is the "I".

Even when we pray, which I don't much anymore, we often talk with God or whatever we want to call this higher power in terms that are comforting to us. Psalm 23 says, "The Lord is MY shepherd, "I" shall not want..." So there we have it. Even in the bible it was all about us. Being that I am really not a religious person nor really know much about the bible save for this remnant of my grandma's teachings, I will rest my case.

When I lay awake at night ruminating my past, my day, my week... I certainly don't attach meaning to everything, but I do try to draw conclusions that will help me get up the next day. Else, what is the point? I can draw paralells all day long in what others have done or said but in the end it is only my decisions, my thoughts, my experiences that really matter. Those are the only reasons that could convince me to change my mind, change my ways or change my way of living.